


Digital Monsters

by benrumo



Series: Minific Requests [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, lucid mituna, pale dubcon?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-28 06:50:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benrumo/pseuds/benrumo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh, for Christ sakes… Get up already. I swear, one of these days you’re going to wind up doing us all a favor and busting that stupid helmet of yours and your stupid skull right into,” you roll your eyes. “Won’t that be a day worth remembering?”</p>
<p>“Ehehehe… Yeah. That’d bEE great-ate-ate.”</p>
<p>“I’m glad you agree,” you say before you realize what you just agreed to, what HE just agreed to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Digital Monsters

Your name is Cronus, and that little bastard Mituna just hit you in the face!

“You little shit!” you sneer. “How dare you! Do you have any fuckin’ clue what I could do to you as a member of my bloodcaste? I oughta cull you with my bare fuckin’ hands!”

“Let me go-o, fucking GO GO go, shit-fisting BULGE-ulge sucking kkkthfff-AH!”

Mituna twitches in your grip like the retarded spaz he is. You oughta have known before you started that you wouldn’t get through that thick skull of his, much less the helmet protecting it.

You let your rage drain out of you with a sigh. It’s not like he can really understand what you’re saying anyway, you tell yourself. There’s no need to waste any more effort than you already do on your waste-of-space mental case buddy.

You turn your death-grip on his wrists into a gentle, friendly caress. You help him lower his arms back down to his sides. He won’t stop twitching. It’s like he’s actually _trying_ to pull away from you. But you are such a good friend that you don’t take it personally. You just keep guiding his hands down with a firm grip until he gives in.

“There now,” you say, flashing him one of your fucking gorgeous smiles, just to show him there’s no hard feelings. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“No,” he mumbles, his visor-shielded eyes lowered.

“That’s right,” you encourage him with a pat on his helmet. “It wasn’t.”

You don’t mind admitting you like this side of Captor far more than any of the other disgusting facet he likes to show off. You bet everyone does, come to think of it. Even Latula. Of course, it’s hard to say for certain when you’re talking about a girl like that. After all, anyone who’d rather go out with a broken freak like Captor than a purpleblooded hunk of a seadweller like yourself is just way too nuts for a rational guy like you to understand.

“No,” Captor mumbles again.

“I said ‘that’s right.’ You got it, buddy.”

“No.”

“You gave the right answer. You don’t have to keep repeating yourself. Fuck, Captor. Do I really have to explain every little thing to you? Have some appreciation for how hard this is for me. Do you think it’s easy for someone like me to have someone like you as a friend? You oughta be down on your knees, thanking me for bothering at all!” you snap, tugging on his horn a little to hopefully drive the point home once and for all. “You’re lucky I’m such a nice guy, not to expect more of you!”

“I’m sorry.”

You begrudgingly give him credit for having the decency to grovel.

“Heeeey, guys!” a voice calls from overhead.

You reflexively cringe at the thought of being caught with your hands on someone like Captor. You can’t stand the idea that people could now be actively associating you with him.

Then you notice Latula fly by. She looks so goddamn gorgeous posing like that on her board. It really shows off her ass, which if you’re being honest is like her one best features.

“Catch you later, slowpokes!” she calls back as she lands. She’s skated off into the distance before either you or Captor can think of a reply.

“Hey HEY, ehehe! Ffft-eeeey! Wait for-or meeEEEE!”

Captor pushes past you clumsily to follow her.

“Who said I was done talking to you?”

You make a grab for him and miss. Luck’s on your side, however. He doesn’t take three steps before he trips over his own feet, the spaz.

“Ffffff-AAAAAaaggghh! Thit fuck.”

“Oh, for Christ sakes… Get up already. I swear, one of these days you’re going to wind up doing us all a favor and busting that stupid helmet of yours and your stupid skull right into,” you roll your eyes. “Won’t that be a day worth remembering?”

“Ehehehe… Yeah. That’d bEE great-ate-ate.”

“I’m glad you agree,” you say before you realize what you just agreed to, what HE just agreed to.

Captor struggles his way back up to his feet while you’re busy making sense of the conversation you just had. Latula is, of course, long gone, which causes Captor to start up another neigh-illegible diatribe.

“Look,” you say, doing your best to impart your impenetrable friend with some practical advice. And hey, if you happen to score some points with Latula while you’re at it… Well, that’s just a nice bonus. “It’s better that you missed her. Now we can work on your approach a little.”

“Work?”

“Yeah. Make you a little more suave-like. I know you’re pretty much a lost cause, but putting a little effort into it couldn’t hurt.”

“HEY FUCK YOU YOU PISSLICKING WANNABE MY SKILLS ARE FUCKING RADICAL GO SHOVE YOUR FACE PHALLUS UP YOUR ASS DONT CHOKE ON IT WHEN IT HORSE COCKS ITS WAY OUT YOU GGNNNNNRRRRK!!!!”

Oh great. Another manic dance from the strobe-master himself. (You make sure to stand at a safe distance this time around.)

“Hey, shut up already, would you? We don’t have a lot of time to waste!” you snap. “I mean, we’ve still got an eternity of being dead ahead of us, but let’s face facts. You’ve already spent so much time embarrassing yourself and everyone around you that you’ll need every spare moment just to make up for it. Hey! What did I just fucking say? Calm down or I’m done trying to help you, you pathetic twit!”

“Sorry.”

“That’s better. Now, where was I? Oh, yeah. I know this may be edging slightly into pale territory, but really, who can blame me? I don’t think anyone could take one look at you and not feel pity for you. It’s practically instinct to want to fix you.”

“Sorry.”

“So, here’s what we’re going to do,” you continue over his useless apology. You put a hand on his shoulder and ignore the way he flinches. “I’m going to teach you what it means to be human! Exciting, right?”

“No.”

You pinch the thin layer of skin exposed just below his helmet.

“Hey, is that any way to treat a guy doing you a favor?” you snarl over his squeals.

“No!”

“That’s fucking right, no! Now shut up and listen to me before I change my mind, you hopeless freak.”

“Don’t fuc-kkkk it WANT.”

“Did I ask you what you fucking wanted? This is for your own good, now shut up and listen!”

You dig your fingers in harder until he complies.

“Like pulling teeth, I swear,” you mumble. “So, here’s your first lesson: style. This one will probably be the easiest for you to learn because, let’s face it, your personality is just a permanent obstacle we’ll have to work around.”

He mumbles something towards your feet you can’t hear.

“What was that?”

“No. I mean, FUCK. I mean, OK. I mean, No. Fuck-kkk. OK.”

“Just shut up, Captor. I know what you mean. In fact, you should just make it a policy to speak as little as possible from now on. That will at least help mitigate the damage.”

He fidgets, but doesn’t reply.

“Finally, a little cooperation!” you say, a touch sarcastic. “Alright, now the first thing we’ve got to do is get rid of that dorky helmet. No offense.”

“But I-I like my helmet.”

“I know you do. But what do you like more, your helmet or Latula?”

“Latula. AND SHE FUCKING WANTS MY BITCHASS MOTHERFUCKkkk—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get it already. She thinks the sun shines out of your ass, for some reason. Really not the point I’m getting at here, Captor,” you say patiently. Man, what a douche! Bringing up your single status at a time like this, that’s just cold. “You see this fine doo I’ve got going on here? Obviously you’ll never be able to measure up in terms of sheer majesty, but it never hurts to aim high. So, the first thing we’ve got to do is get you out of that helmet. Then we’ll work on your clothes.”

“EheheHE I knew-ew you were JUST FUCKing look-k-k-ing for an excuse to to to to GET ME NAKED! I bet a GNRK! Motherfucking SLEE-EE-EAZE THAT you are you SICKFUCKness sleaze ffffFFFFFFNNnnkk DREAM ABOUT THIS DON’T YOU DON’T DENY-Y-Y-Y-Y!!!”

“Hey,” you say, really very hurt. “I told you about that in confidence. What kind of friend are you?”

“Sorry.”

“I don’t want your useless apologies, I want you to take that helmet off!”

“OK.”

He doesn’t move, so you do, stomping forward to jerk at his chin strap.

“Don’t just stand there, show me how this thing works!”

“Ow. But… Ow. I don’t…”

“Stop blabbering and help me!”

“I don’t remember. Ow. Ow. How it works.”

“Come on, buddy, I’m just trying to help you!”

You are so busy pulling and tugging at the impossible puzzle that is Mituna’s head gear that you don’t notice _him_ sneak up behind you. To be honest, you are not sure you would have noticed him even if you hadn’t been preoccupied. But you definitely notice when a hand falls on your shoulder.

You jump a foot in the air. You whip your head back, but you don’t have to look to know who it is. You can tell just by the smell.

“Fuck! How long have you been there?”

For a troll of so few words, Kurloz sure can make a single look say a hell of a lot.

“Yeah, well… I’ve got better things to be doing with my time anyway,” you mumble, just to save face, before absconding as fast as your human footwear can take you.

“Fuckin’ creepy juggalo freak,” you mumble when you’re safely out of earshot.

You pull a lighter out of your sylladex and mime lighting the cigarette between your teeth. (No use wasting a perfectly good cigarette.) You mime taking a deep… what do human’s call it again? a snuff? or is it a gasp? on the soggy filter as a means of calming yourself down. It just proves how human you really are that it works without even needing to be lit.

Miming reminds you of Kurloz, though, and Kurloz is the last thing you want to think about right now. You’re already going to have to wash everything you’re wearing just to get the stench of him out. You’d better hurry too, before it sets in to the fabric.

Or, you consider, (and this is a truly brilliant idea) _or_ you could… do a little reconnaissance. Everyone’s always wondered what goes on between those two. Mituna and Latula make a certain insane kind of sense. He is, after all, exceedingly pathetic in an irreparably broken kind of way. Chicks dig that. But even someone as insane as Kurloz has to see that no amount of pale ministrations could ever make so much as a dent.

So how does it work? How is Mituna actually _lucid_ around him? You still aren’t sure you believe it’s possible.

But there’s one way to know for sure.

You find them in just the nick of time. Kurloz places his fake-skeletal (who does he think he’s fooling?) hand on a dream bubble. One of his own, obviously, though you didn’t know this one was here. You don’t pay much attention to them. What’s the point of worrying about something you can’t play with? All of your friend’s dream bubbles are locked off to you, and your own are just so boring.

Where there was once a solid, golden wall, a purple cave pops into existence. Kurloz walks calmly inside, but Mituna pauses at the mouth, spazzing out as usual. At first you mistake it for hesitation, but then he pulls his skateboard out of his sylladex.

You are not the least bit surprised when he tumbles headfirst into the darkness. Was there even a rail to grind in there? You doubt it.

You dash forward, hating how slow you are on land. Far slower than Kurloz can be, you know. Slower even than Mituna on his stupid board. But you make it, by some miracle.

You follow the wet, dark path of the cave down, keeping as close to the pale pair as you dare. Soon the rough stone gives way to cut, and you realize you’re walking through the bowels of Derse. Why would he have a memory of a place like this, you wonder?

The tunnel becomes a staircase, and the staircase leads to a pavilion topped with colorful canvas tapestries. Mirthful tapestries, you note with a roll of your eyes.

You sneak as close as you dare, settling into a snug niche behind some especially decorative wall decorations. You think you’re mostly covered. Besides, no doubt the two love birds will be too enthralled with one another to notice you anyway.

You are not sure what you were expecting, but this is…

Just so fucking dull.

Kurloz sits down against a low stone wall, statue-still except for his ridiculous miming. Mituna, in contrast, isn’t still for a second. Between Mituna’s… well, _everything_ and Kurloz’s eerie silence, you can’t make out a single, complete sentence of their conversation. You’re not even sure they’re having a conversation. You’ve seen Mituna carry on similar dialogues with inanimate objects.

You’re about three seconds away from giving up (so many better things you could be spending your time on), when Mituna finally stills. He reaches out for Kurloz, as if to help him back up to his feet. But when Kurloz reaches back, Mituna withdraws. You can’t tell if it was an intentional sleight or not, because Mituna’s back to spazzing and screaming disjointed “No!”s in the very next moment.

Kurloz slowly withdraws his hand. You wonder how their moirallegiance withstands such blatant insults. You’d certainly never put up with such shit.

Mituna grabs his helmet with both hands, gloved fingers scratching over the smooth surface futilely. Boring, boring, boring.

Then he unclasps his chinstrap.

Mituna throws his helmet aside with such force that the sound of it makes you flinch. You watch, astonished for about half a dozen rather valid reasons, as Mituna falls to his knees in front of Kurloz. You’d almost forgotten how much hair he has. Even slick with sweat, it’s a mess.

Kurloz reaches out with both hands, but Mituna bats them away. An instant later he’s got Kurloz by the scruff of his stupid skeletal religious getup. For a moment you think you’re about to witness a strife, but then every bit of tension leaks out of Mituna. He presses his forehead to Kurloz’s and you can see their horns touch. You really should not be watching something this private. How lucky are you?

“Why do you do this to me?”

His voice is even and clear. Well, as clear as it ever was. He’s not twitching or grinning vacantly. He’s not cowed or spouting obscenities. He’s just…

“I know! I know, alright? You don’t have to tell me every single time.”

He’s lucid.

“Yeah, well maybe it’s not as great as you think.”

You had almost forgotten what his voice used to sound like.

“That’s not what I’m saying! Fuck! I just…”

You’d almost forgotten how he used to be like.

“Every time. I’ve got to go through it all every single time.”

He was your friend. You were more than friends, you were rivals. He was the only one who actually seemed to give a shit whether or not you were around. Even if he never gave you any respect or recognized just how bad everybody else treats you, he still cared.

“The only time I know what I’ve lost is when I’m with you.”

Does this mean he’s still in there?

“Of course, part of me doesn’t feel like I’ve lost anything.”

The real Mituna, just a few yards away.

“Fucking bifurcated thought processes. That’s one thing I definitely don’t miss.”

All you would have to do is stand up, and you could talk to someone you thought was gone forever.

“Ehehehe. Yeah, that’s pretty sweet too. Better than it ever was, even. It’s great. She’s great.”

You could have your friend back.

“No. Don’t do that. It’s OK. Really, I’m OK with it.”

But not forever.

“If I have to accept it, so do you.”

Fury hits you so strong and sudden you can’t breathe.

“Who is?”

_Oh shit._

Kurloz’s head turns slowly around. Eyes flashing unnatural colors meet yours, and for a moment all you can see is mirthful canvas spinning in front of your eyes.

You abscond so fast you fall from your hiding place and right onto your face. It is not until you’re safely within your own memories that you realize the ringing in your ears is the sound Mituna’s laughter.


End file.
